Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows
by Tracy Diane Miller
Summary: Fate has a funny way of connecting people, but so do memories. "Snow Angels" inspired this very short story.


Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows  
  
Summary: Fate has a funny way of connecting people, but so do  
  
memories. "Snow Angels" inspired this very short story.  
  
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to their creators. No  
  
copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made. Some of  
  
the dialogue that appears in this story is not my own, but belongs to  
  
the writer of the Early Edition episode "Snow Angels".  
  
Author: Tracy Diane Miller  
  
E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com  
Hot Chocolate with Marshmallows  
  
There was a boom, like the angry roar of a thunderstorm; only it  
  
wasn't, before the skylight crashed and plummeted through the room.  
  
The horror of the moment froze, slow motion, it seemed, as the  
  
monster landed on top of Earl pinning him to the floor.  
  
Gary knew that the tragedy was going to happen and had desperately  
  
tried to change Earl's future that the Paper had scripted. But he  
  
had failed. Again.  
  
Earl appeared eerily calm, perhaps dazed by the pain and the  
  
surrealism of what had just happened. The pain was merciless;  
  
everything hurt. He was having trouble breathing. The homeless man  
  
seemed shocked to see Gary.  
  
"It stopped snowing." Earl confirmed.  
  
Gary struggled, but was able to push the skylight off of Earl. Earl  
  
screamed in pain. The beast had done much damage. Earl was bleeding  
  
heavily from his stomach and he couldn't move his legs. Gary's  
  
amateur diagnosis was that Earl's legs were broken.  
  
The hero removed his scarf and pressed it against the wound hoping  
  
that the pressure would control the bleeding. Surprisingly, Earl had  
  
a cell phone that Gary used to call for help. Unfortunately, the  
  
combination of the foul weather and technological snafu (the device  
  
experienced a problem with a low battery) hindered any rescue efforts.  
  
The victim grew quiet.  
  
Gary had read somewhere once that you needed to keep a victim of  
  
severe trauma awake to prevent them from lapsing into a coma. He  
  
knew that he had to keep Earl talking so that the injured man  
  
wouldn't fall asleep. He learned that Earl had been born right here  
  
in Chicago, on the south side.  
  
Earl's voice was faint. "Gary, it's cold." The man began, his voice  
  
barely above a whisper. "It's a different kind of cold, like.like  
  
I'm never going to get warm again. It's cold all the way to my  
  
bones."  
  
"Sure you can." Gary responded, reassuringly. "You know, when I was  
  
a little kid. I used to love the snow. As soon as the first snow  
  
fell, I'd be the first one to get out there and get my hands in it.  
  
I'd stay in it for hours. And you know what? I was never cold until  
  
that walk home. The thought of that walk home would make me cold.  
  
But then, then, I'd remember that there would always be a cup of hot  
  
chocolate waiting for me."  
  
"With marshmallows?" Earl asked weakly.  
  
"Yeah, that's right. I can still taste it."  
  
"Me, too."  
  
"Yeah? So whenever I'm cold, I think about that hot chocolate. You  
  
see, that warms me up." Gary explained.  
  
Despite his condition, Earl seemed to soak in Gary's words. "You  
  
know what?" He said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I...I can taste it."  
* * * * * *  
  
Chicago, South Side: Early 1970s  
  
Old Man Winter had not waited to exhale before expelling a powerful  
  
breath that dressed Chicago in a heavy blanket of snow. The powdery  
  
precipitation wasn't winter's only largess; along with the snow came  
  
frigid temperatures and the struggle for basic survival.  
  
The tiny, careworn apartment with cracks weaving across the walls  
  
like a spider's web, looked more like a casualty of war than a home.  
  
The insidious landlord, an unsophisticated robber baron of sorts,  
  
collected rent, but refused to make basic repairs on the premises.  
  
The city appeared to have turned a blind eye to the malfeasance and  
  
did nothing. There were no citations against the landlord for code  
  
violations despite the complaints from the tenants. No investigators  
  
came. People, packed in the tenement like rats, their bellies often  
  
swelled with hunger, fought to cleave to their pride despite such  
  
dismal circumstances.  
  
The cold filtered in through the small opening in the kitchen  
  
window. She had tried stuffing the opening with rags, but that did  
  
little to keep out the conquering, bitter cold. She and her son sat  
  
in their layers of clothing, shivering. They felt the cold right  
  
through to their bones.  
  
The kettle whistled. A moment later, the steaming water was added  
  
to two cups that sat idly on the table. The hot chocolate smelled  
  
rich and inviting.  
  
Young Earl watched in eager anticipation as his mother removed the  
  
marshmallows from the cupboard. Mom always added marshmallows to his  
  
hot chocolate. The first sip always stung his lips, but Earl didn't  
  
care. The pain was worth it. The taste of hot chocolate with  
  
marshmallows made him forget how cold he was. Mom smiled at him as  
  
he drank the brew.  
  
In a way, it wasn't just the hot chocolate with marshmallows that  
  
warmed him up inside, but Mom's smile as well. She never cried,  
  
cursed their fate, nor blamed anyone for the kind of life that they  
  
led. She clung to her faith in God and her love for her son. That  
  
love was rich and wonderful.  
  
They were poor, but what she couldn't give him in material  
  
possessions, she made up in abundance of love. Wherever life took  
  
him, Earl would always know that.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Hickory, Indiana- Early 1970s  
  
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and hurried towards his bedroom  
  
window, mud green eyes sparkling with eager anticipation. The  
  
weatherman had predicted snow last night and the predication had come  
  
true. Mountains of snow covered the sleepy town.  
  
School was closed today, so Young Gary looked forward to hours of  
  
playing in the snow. The little boy charged down the stairs. His  
  
mother's doting couldn't stifle his youthful exuberance; Gary was  
  
fidgety as Lois bundled him up in his hat, scarf, gloves, and coat.  
  
To a child, his mother's attention seemed to have lasted for an  
  
eternity, but it was actually a few moments before he opened the door  
  
and went outside.  
  
Gary lay on the ground moving his arms and legs in an animated  
  
fashion. Out of his movement, a beautiful snow angel emerged.  
  
He played outside for hours. More snow angels resulted from his  
  
efforts. Later, he joined a few neighborhood kids in a contest to  
  
make snow people. The snow person that looked suspiciously  
  
like "Miss Flowers" won first prize.  
  
As he walked home, the little boy felt very cold. But as soon as he  
  
Gary opened the front door, the smell of hot chocolate with  
  
marshmallows assaulted his nostrils.  
  
It didn't take him long before he sat down at the kitchen table. The  
  
first sip always stung his lips, but Gary didn't care. The pain was  
  
worth it. The taste of hot chocolate with marshmallows made him  
  
forget how cold he was. Mom smiled at him as he drank the brew.  
  
Whatever road he would travel in his life, Gary Hobson would always  
  
remember those snow angels, Mom's smile, and hot chocolate with  
  
marshmallows.  
The End 


End file.
